The Giver Origins
by TymetoPretend
Summary: What was life like when the Giver was a young boy, new to the strange beginnings of the community? The story begins with the Giver arriving to the new community as they begin to administer the serum for color sameness.
1. Chapter 1

Tacken was nearly eleven when the serum was given to him. He had stood hand in hand with his mother, unsure of what they were waiting for exactly. They stood in a long line outside the newly built community center, near the rose garden and next to the fountain. His mother smiled kindly down at him as they waited with the rest of the newly formed community, ready to receive the serum that would take away his ability to see color. Tacken was unaware of what this meant for him. Which color would be taken away? What would he see instead, shadows of white and grey? He looked around him in hopes to find a familiar face and grinned as he spotted his friend Cole a few people behind them.

"Can I go see Cole?" he asked his mother. She nodded and let go of his hand. Tacken rushed over to his friend and was chastised by the adults around him for running wildly. He apologized as he neared Cole who stood with his mother, father, and younger brother. Tacken's father was helping the volunteers from the community to administer the serum inside the center.

"Hello Cole," Tacken said politely and said a brief hello to Cole's parents who said polite hellos in return. Most people within the community were polite and well mannered. Tacken had lived in something known as a city before he and his parents were selected by the newly appointed Authority to live within the communities that would begin regulating population control and disease, or whatever that meant. Tacken wasn't really sure why he moved, but he had not become used to the strict ways of the community just yet. He grew tired of being told how to behave and the forced apologies he needed to make when he wasn't sorry about anything.

"Hey Tacken, are you scared?" Cole asked, a little fear creeping into his voice. Tacken shook his head and grinned.

"Nothing scares me, I'm invincible."

Cole's mother smiled down at him and shook her finger back and forth. "Remember your lesson about words Tacken? You are not invincible, for that would mean you are not able to be hurt. Remember to use proper words," she said in a kind voice that held a firmness that made Tacken blush with embarrassment.

"Sorry Ma'am," he said and Cole laughed quietly before his father shot him a warning look. Tacken took Coles hand and went over to the fountain. A few people had already told him before that touching another person was not allowed, but from where Tacken had been raised, touching was normal. He often would punch and kick his old friends, or shake hands with someone, or give them a hug. Hugging, he quickly found out, was forbidden. His mother continued to hug him in the darkness of night however, which made him feel good about breaking the imposing rules he was already beginning to dislike.

Cole played with the water and fished out a few pennies. Tacken grabbed one and looked at the face of the coin, which was of the head of the Authority. He had seen the man a few times in the past on commercials and posters that were around the city, but never could remember the man's name. Tacken wasn't sure if he liked him.

"I don't want to lose my vision," Cole said, his voice low and sad.

Tacken shook his head at him and huffed. "They aren't taking your _vision_ away, they're taking away color or something."

"My color? Like my eye color?"

"I don't know, my mom said something about it making everyone on equal dirt or whatever."

Cole rolled his eyes at Tacken this time. "You mean equal _ground_, it means everyone will be the same."

Tacken playfully punched Cole in the arm and Cole did a mock wince. "You're too smart sometimes."

Tacken was glad for Cole. He was the first person he met when he moved to the community. Cole lived next door to him and had a little brother who was five. Tacken didn't know anyone outside his city, and the move was abrupt. He wasn't able to say goodbye to anyone and he felt lonely before he met Cole. They were each given bikes with their name on the back, which Tacken found exciting, and they rode around the community discovering things together. They each marveled at the new things they were given once coming to the community, but also fretted over what had been taken away.

Tacken and Cole learned quickly that television was nowhere to be found. There were books, however, which pleased Cole since he enjoyed reading, but Tacken was unhappy at the sudden switch. His parents told him it was for the better, but he didn't believe them. He wanted to watch cartoons and super hero movies, but they seemed to be a thing of the past.

Tacken looked back at the line and noticed his mother waving him over. Tacken patted Cole quickly on the back and ran back to his mother who gave him a frown.

"Remember, no running, okay?" she asked and apologized to the people around them. Tacken tried not to roll his eyes but his mother saw and she gave him a sad smile. She had seemed sad ever since they moved, but she hadn't spoken of why. They had lived in the community for five months and she seemed to be liking it less and less each day. Tacken had asked her once why they had to move, and his mother explained that they were given a great opportunity to better their lives. Tacken wasn't sure what to make of it, but he didn't feel like his life were any better off. He missed his city.

Tacken retook his mother's hand and gave a soft sigh. She squeezed back reassuringly but he just wanted to go back home. Tacken was able to see further inside the community center and could see the tall ceilings with sunshine streaming through the large windows. The area was used for recreational sports and public gatherings. The floors were shinning and Tacken could smell the fresh paint and new wood. They began to move closer to the front and he could see his father sitting next to a tall woman in a dark blue dress. His father wore a white lab coat and dark pants, which marked him as one of the doctors. Tacken knew his father did miracles, but he didn't know which kind. The woman sitting beside his father had skin the color of dark chocolate and hair the color of night. She was smiling at his father as he rubbed a cotton ball onto her arm. Tacken watched as his father reached for a small needle to inject her and Tacken winced as it entered the woman's flesh.

The woman's smile was bright before and slowly began to fade as his father pushed in the plunger of the needle. Tacken watched her expression closely. His mother always told him he could be a detective; he always looked for the smallest details in everything. The woman did not look pleased as his father finished and put a small bandage on the wound the needle made. Tacken watched as she rose slowly from the chair, looked down at her dress, and began to cry softly.

A person in a white lab coat, a woman who was similar in height and had dark blonde hair, came to the woman and brought her to a table that held other people who were talking amongst themselves, some crying and others looking scared. Tacken looked up, frightened, into his mother's eyes that seemed to mirror his. Tacken had always loved his mother, as most children do, but he found her beautiful. Most kids he knew spoke ill of their parents, but Tacken adored his mother more than anyone he knew. Her soft brown hair, in thick curls hung around her face and framed her light blue eyes that matched his own. She began to fidget with a necklace around her neck with her free hand, a habit Tacken knew she did when she was nervous. She tried to smile at him again but it faltered. Tacken was beginning to grow scared.

They got closer to the front of the line and his father waved them over. Tacken squeezed his mother's hand as they approached the small seat that the blue dress woman had been sitting not long before. His parent's were not allowed to show affection in public, because it was deemed inappropriate, but Tacken was glad his father gave her a brief hug anyway. Tacken didn't care much about rules.

"Darling, are you ready?" his father asked. He wasn't a very tall man, but he wasn't short either. Tacken looked most like his father, except for his eyes and his nose, which looked like his mother. Tacken's father had dark brown hair, combed back, neat and tidy, and had a build of a man who had not done much physical labor in his life. Tacken had always known him as a doctor, and nothing else. His father used to work long hours in the city but had not worked as much since coming to the community. Tacken had come with him in the months previous to administer new vaccines to people. Tacken had been told there would never be a sick day in his future, for which he was glad, because he hated to be sick.

His mother's eyes looked frantic for a brief second and his father took both her hands, Tacken releasing his grip from his mother so his father could comfort her.

"Remember what we decided? We need this life. It's the best way for everyone, for everyone to be the same. We want Tacken to have a life we didn't get, away from hate and violence. This is one step towards that life," he said and brought a hand to her cheek in a sweet gesture. A few people around them muttered words of annoyance at the public display but Tacken's family paid them no mind. His mother finally nodded and took a seat as his father did the same. Tacken watched as his father cleaned the area for the injection, recognizing the same process from before with blue dress woman and before, months earlier, with the no sickness vaccine.

His father readied the needle, and before Tacken could take in another breath, his father injected his mother with the serum. He watched his mother's face closely. She looked sad before, but a deeper sadness seemed to have crept into her brow. She did not cry, or move, as his father put a bandage over the injection site. She got up slowly, and waited while Tacken took a seat instead. Tacken rolled up his shirt, which was longer since exposed skin was frowned upon except for necks, face, and hands, for children, and he waited for his father to get another needle.

"It'll be alright son, I promise. I've already done it, and now your mother has. We both took it like champs, as I know you will as well," his father said and smiled. Tacken's heart began to race wildly within his chest as his father took the cotton ball to his skin. The cotton ball felt cool, and he could smell the antiseptic on it. Tacken grabbed his mother's hand with his other arm, and looked up at her for reassurance. She did not smile, however, but looked strangely gone. Tacken felt as if a large rock had settled into his stomach, much too big to fit.

He wanted to leave, run away quickly, before whatever was about to happen to him could take effect. As he was about to bolt, however, his father injected him with the serum. As Tacken looked again to his mother, he could feel a deep coldness spread from the injection site and throughout his body. He shivered involuntarily and frantically looked around the room. Everything seemed normal, until it began to seem different. Color began to slowly fade from his sight. Reds dimmed, and blues disappeared into faded black. Grays replaced the vibrant colors around him. He looked at his mother again, before the serum could take full effect, and he saw the blue of her eyes turn gray and her dark curls turn to soft darkness. He began to cry for the first time in a long time, because he understood now what the new community meant. It meant things would never be the same for him again, and it scared him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The Beginnings of Sameness

The walk home felt as if it lasted a long time. Tacken looked everywhere he could. The flowers he had seen not five minutes ago were white, gray, and black. There were various tones to the world, but they all came together into a puddle of sameness. He didn't talk as he walked beside his mother to their home which was two blocks away from the community center. As he passed by Cole, his friend smiling and waving, he turned his face away. Cole would soon understand the emptiness that he, Tacken, felt as he looked around the world at a loss for words and feelings.

In his memories he could remember color. He knew the sky was blue, that trees were green, and that his bicycle, which was rested on the front lawn, was red. He knew his skin was a pale peach that blushed scarlet when he became embarrassed or angry. Tacken knew that things were different, but he didn't understand how to live in this colorless world. His mother opened the door and let him step ahead of her. It was still strange to Tacken that no one locked doors in the community. He didn't know if he would ever be able to grasp the idea of safety, or the lack of privacy.

His mother sat down at the sofa in the sparely furnished living room. Tacken had been told upon arrival that the house was only given what was absolutely essential to live. He went and sat next to her but she did not face him. She put her elbow onto the arm rest and placed her delicate hand into her face. Tacken watched, silently, as quiet tears ran down her face. Tacken got up and found a small tissue box on the desk in the adjacent room. He handed her a few tissues and she took them with a sniffle.

"Things are going to be different now Tacken," she said, her voice strained. She sniffed a few times and pattered her eyes dry. She no longer wore makeup, since it had been community rules, but Tacken felt she looked better without it.

"It's already different," he said. He looked around the room, gray and lifeless, and he felt sadness all over. He wanted color back, but he didn't think he was going to see it again. He had a feeling whatever was in the serum was permanent. They both remained quiet for a long time, and before he knew it, light began to fade outside. The darkness seemed even more complete since color had been taken from him. He heard a familiar knock on the door and got up to open it. A man in a jump suit handed him three food trays, which he took and put on the dining table behind him. The man left after saying good evening and Tacken closed the door.

Tacken went to the kitchen and collected three forks from the drawer next to the sink. There was no refrigerator, or an oven, because no one within the community was allowed to cook. There was an area for glasses, which were used to drink water, and utensils for the meals that were served three times a day to the community residents. Tacken was not happy with the way things were run, and he did not care for the type of food that was served. The people of the Food Committee, his father had told him, gave each community member the right amount of food for their age and weight. Tacken's food was more than both his parents, since he was still growing, but the meat, potatoes and vegetables tasted all the same. He wished for once they believed in salt and pepper shakers.

His mother joined him, but did not seem to be enjoying her food either, and only finished half. She gave the rest to Tacken, though it was against the rules. They did not care, however, since no one was watching them directly, or so Tacken hoped. His father arrived not long after he finished and cleaned up their meal trays. His father looked tired from the day's work and ate his food hungrily.

"Almost done with everyone now," he said as he finished his meal. He didn't seem very content, but none of them had since they moved. Tacken knew that food was scarce within the city he had been in. His mother often told them they were fortunate his father worked so hard, because he was able to provide for them like other families could not. Tacken didn't know what that meant exactly, but his mother often told them how fortunate they were. He didn't feel very fortunate since coming to the community, however.

"Everyone will be the same?" he asked his father who nodded.

"Yup, everyone will be the same soon. Once we finish with the colorless serum we will move onto the pills, and everything should work smoothly like in the other communities."

Tacken had heard of other communities but did not know where they were or what they were like. His mother explained to him that his city had been one of the last like it, since things around the world were becoming hard for people. He knew that there were some older communities that had lasted a very long time, but he didn't know for how long. He felt suddenly as though he did not know much about his new life at all.

His father looked at his watch with surprise. "It's so late already? You should be in bed!" he said and Tacken reluctantly went to his room. He had been used to having a bed time before, but not one quiet so early. The community had a strict rule on bedtimes before the age of twelve, which began at eight o'clock each night. Tacken had the hardest time becoming accustomed to this rule since before his bedtime had been ten.

He looked forward to the day he would become twelve, because his father explained to him that great things happened then. He didn't know what that meant, but he was excited none the less. The hardest thing for him, aside from leaving home, had been the news that no one within the community celebrated birthdays. Everyone each year celebrated in the same way, and each new year of life had specific gifts and privileges. Some families from older communities were welcomed into Tacken's, and the children in his class had explained to him the great things they received upon turning different ages. Tacken was mostly unimpressed with most years, and others he grew more excited. He didn't know why they did things the way they did, but it seemed to work, for the most part.

It took Tacken a while to fall asleep but he felt refreshed when he awoke the next morning. His mother didn't need to wake him for school, but hopped her head into his room to wish him a good morning. She seemed slightly better than the night before but Tacken could still see that her eyes were troubled. He got dressed in the clothes designed for school, long pants and shirts and stiff shoes that made his feet feel uncomfortable, and he joined his mother and father for breakfast.

His father had to leave early to finish off the last people who needed the colorless serum and his mother would be going to the warehouse used for sewing clothes for the community. Each person upon arrival had been given a very long, and boring according to Tacken, questionnaire that helped to fit each person into a job that could better suit the community as a whole. His mother had always been good with her hands and was able to transfer her everyday sewing into one that benefited everyone. Tacken finished his breakfast and nearly tasteless food and got his school books. His mother kissed him briefly on the forehead before he left and put his books within his bike basket. Her found Cole getting ready to leave and he rushed to join him.

"Good morning," Tacken said and began to mount his bike. He and Cole took off and a steady pace towards the school which was only a few blocks from them. Tacken had noticed that things were always convenient to get to, and often times easy to find. The one place hard to find, he found out the hard way, was the bike repair shop. He broke the chain off his bike within his first week and he had to ask his father for help in the repairs, since the bike repair shop seemed to have moved to a new location, and told no one where they went.

"Good morning," Cole said in return. He looked bothered by something and Tacken asked him what was wrong.

Cole shook his head but kept his eyes forward, as not to get in a bike accident. Cole was much more careful than Tacken was, for Tacken was often riding without hands or racing Cole when Cole wanted not to. Tacken knew that if he asked Cole again, it would be rude, because since his arrival in the community rudeness had been the one thing that had been pressed upon him by everyone. He learned quickly that to ask another member of the community a question that was personal, was rude, and therefore, you must apologize for making them feel discomfort. Tacken was used to be brash and quick with his temper, and had a hard time respecting the idea of being polite and courteous, even to his best friend.

"You can tell me, if something's bugging you," Tacken said as they neared the school. They placed their bikes along with everyone else's in front of the entrance on a long bike rack that extended around the building. You were chastised if your bike was improperly placed, and Tacken was usually sought after during their break time to fix his sloppy job. He placed his bike crookedly within the rack and Cole fixed it, rolling his eyes and giving a sigh in the process.

"I'm just trying to get used to this vison thing is all."

Tacken understood. He was still checking everything around him, looking for even a small amount of color within the ocean of gray. He walked up the steps of the school with Cole and heard the first bell ring. He quickly got to class with Cole and took their seats before the second bell rang. Their teacher, Ms. Apple, was waiting patiently behind her desk as she took attendance. Everyone looked to be accounted for, and after a moment, she took her place at the front of the class.

"Good morning class," she said, her voice a little raspy. Tacken couldn't be sure of his teacher's age, but she seemed to be older than his mother. She wore what most women wore now, a simple dress that went well past the knee, and a cardigan which was light and unassuming. She did not smile often, but Tacken didn't know many teachers from his old school that smiled much either. Most teachers, he thought, seemed to dislike kids.

"Good morning Ms. Apple," the class said in unison. She gave a curt nod at their greeting and she began to write numbers on the board, starting with one and going through twelve, horizontally and taking up the board from one side to the other, leaving space in between each number.

"Today we will go over the gifts and ages, so you can begin to become ingrained within the community's new ways and system. You will all be elevens soon, which is one of the biggest turning points of your lives. I'll get to that soon, however."

Ms. Apple moved over to the number one and wrote down the words _Naming and Placement_ underneath it. Tacken did not like the sound of this, even though he was well past the age of this particular stage. He moved uncomfortably in this chair as his other classmates looked on with curiosity. Those who had come from established communities looked bored, but tried to pay attention. They had already been through this, lived it, while a few members within the class now were new to the idea of no birthdays and assigned age years. The new people within the community were strictly forbidden to talk about life outside of the community, of the lives they led before, because it would disrupt the very idea of which the community stands for: sameness.

"As it has been done in communities before, and which will now happen within ours, we will begin with the Naming Ceremony. Every child born within the year will be given their assigned name at the Ceremony of One and become, themselves, a One. They will also be assigned to their family unit. If you do not have a brother or sister already, your family can petition to have their second child."

Tacken raised his hand and Ms. Apple did not seem surprised. "Yes, Tacken?" she asked, patience within her voice. Tacken doubted much fazed her. Most people within the community seemed to be the same in that regard.

"What do you mean by family unit?"

"We have gone over this before, Tacken, in our last lesson. A family unit consists of a woman and a man, both who have been approved for marriage, and who have also petitioned to have a child. Your family is an incomplete family unit, and I am sure that your parents have petitioned for their second child already."

Tacken felt confused but kept quiet. He remembered her talking about family units in their last class, but did not remembering hearing the words _petition_ and _incomplete_. Did his family want another child? He always felt as though his family was fine the way it was. He never wanted a sibling, and he didn't like the idea of one coming into his life now. He waited for the teacher to continue. No one else had any more questions, and so she went on.

"The second ceremony is for Two's, which introduces the child to the discipline wand as well as their comfort object. Since you are all much older, you did not experience the discipline wand unless you came from an adjoining community." She wrote the words _Wand_ and _Comfort Object_ under the two. Tacken gave a small sigh of relief for not having to deal with the disciple wand.

"In the third year, a child begins dream telling. A female also receives her hair ribbons. Within the year four, the child receives a jacket with buttons on the back, to help them learn about interdependence of others."

Ms. Apple writes more on the board, and continues on. Nothing happens within the fifth and sixth year, which disappointed Tacken. He could faintly remember getting his first bicycle when he was six, but it did not seem as though that would happen to children within this new community. He felt bad for them.

"In the seventh year, a child will receive a jacket with buttons on the front, proving that at this age they will learn independence. At age eight, the child will start their volunteer hours. As you all are soon to be Elevens, you will all begin your volunteer hours as well. You will be starting them along with the Eights. Your volunteer hours will help the committee determine which job within the community you are best suited for. You will not be allowed the same time as those younger than you, but it is important to take volunteer hours with the utmost importance."

Tacken slunked back into his chair. "Tacken, posture!" his teacher said from the front and he straightened up. Volunteer hours? His parents had never said anything about volunteer hours. He already dreaded the idea of volunteering for things. He wanted to be a kid, and to run around and have fun. The thought of working depressed him.

"In the ninth year the child receives their bicycle. As soon to be Elevens, you have been given your bikes already, because it is important to see and understand the community. They will also help you arrive at your volunteer hours on time. The tenth year ceremony, the child will receive their new haircuts, which include shorter cuts for the boys, and the loss of braids for the girls. They also receive their underclothes for their changing bodies."

Tacken had begun to grow tired with boredom but soon began to perk up as Ms. Apple neared the last two numbers on the board. "As I had said earlier, as Elevens you will continue to do your volunteer hours. The committee will be watching you closely to determine where you will best fit within the community. At the last ceremony, the Ceremony of Twelve, you will be called by your assigned number in your birth year, in this case, assigned number by the committee, and you will receive your assignments which will be your training for your new job."

She heaved a heavy sigh as she finished. She went on to explain the types of jobs available, but none of them inspired Tacken. He did not want to take care of children, or old people, or work with fish or lawns. He doubted there was anything that could interest him. He left feeling as if he were doomed to live a boring life filled with mundane feelings and experiences. He wished he could go back to the city, but he knew he was stuck here for good.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The Long Hours

After school everyone who was under the age of twelve, but over the age of eight, began their volunteer hours. Those who were younger than Tacken's class had been doing the volunteer hours since the new people had arrived five months previous, but things had finally settled into familiarness and everyone was now on track with how things were supposed to be. Cole was excited to begin his volunteer hours, and in an ambitions burst of hast, he rushed over to the clinic to see what work the doctors were doing for the community. Tacken had been told by his father that people no longer would become sick, but people still accidently hurt themselves from time to time, and therefore some doctors were still needed. Some did research, though Tacken didn't know of what.

Tacken grabbed his bike but did not get on it. He didn't know where he wanted to start. He wasn't paying much attention would something began to walk alongside him. He glanced over and was surprised to see a girl. He did not know her name, but knew she was in his class. The girl had lighter hair, which he guessed to be blonde, and dark eyes. All of the people from the older communities had dark eyes, he noticed, though he wasn't sure why that small detail stuck inside his head. She had freckles and a small face, with a kind looking smile.

"Hello, I'm Nina," she said.

"I'm Tacken," he said. She didn't extend her hand so he didn't. She was more accustomed to the rules than he was, and for once he wished he were as well. He felt awkward and unsure of himself.

"Where will you be going for your hours?" she asked him as they slowly walked their bikes together.

He shrugged. "I don't know, nothing sounds very interesting."

"Would you like to come with me to Nurturer Center?" she asked. Tacken only vaguely knew what it was and agreed to go. She got on her bike and he followed her lead. She led him to a building that looked like a clinic, but wasn't. When they went inside they were greeted by a receptionist who showed them where to sign in. Tacken wrote his name down and noted the time, wanting to already leave. He followed Nina to a room which looked after new born babies. Tacken had zero experience with children, and he became stiff and uncomfortable.

One of the Nurturers, a woman with her hair pulled back into a bun and wearing similar attire to that of what Tacken's father wore, smiled warmly at them both.

"Hello there you two, first time here?" she asked and they both nodded. The woman told them to wash their hands and to each put on a smock, in case the babies grew stomach sick. Their job was to watch two babies each, and to make sure they had their binkies and were placid. Tacken felt unsure of himself again as he gazed down at the babies. They all looked the same to him, and when he commented that they did to Nina, she laughed.

"They are supposed to look similar, I suppose. When they grow up their features will come out more."

One of the children Tacken was watching, a male, started to whimper and he quickly grabbed the fallen binky that had missed his attention, and he placed it gently into the infant's mouth. The baby began to suck on the sucker and calmed itself. Tacken heaved a sigh of relief and Nina laughed softly, careful not to disturbed the infants around her. Tacken laughed softly with her, enjoying her company. He use to have friends who were girls in his city, but they were harsh and mean, unlike Nina who seemed sweet and kind.

They stayed at the Nurturing Center until it became dark. Tacken rode with Nina to her home, and waved her good night as he sped to his own place for dinner. When he arrived his mother was putting out the trays for the cleanup crew to collect in the night. She waved him in and he began to eat with a hungry flourish. The food didn't taste as bad as it had at lunch time, and he felt happy for having spent the day with a new friend.

His father arrived not long after him and had a wide grin on his face. "The serum has been passed out to everyone!" he announced with joy. He sat in front of Tacken who was nearly finished with his meal, and his mother sat with them, though she no longer had any food to eat.

"That's great news," his mother said though her face did not match the lack of enthusiasm to her voice. His father did not seem to notice, and he began to eat his meal.

"Tomorrow we all start taking the pills," he said and addressed both Tacken and his wife.

"What are the pills?" Tacken asked, not liking the sound of them. He had heard his father speak of the pills before, but only in passing, and he did not think he would need to take them as well. He had never been fond of taking pills and had trouble swallowing them.

"They will help with stirrings, and you'll feel better once you begin to take them."

"But I'm not sick?" Tacken asked, because stirrings sounding like a disease that he knew he did not have.

His father shook his head, and laughed as if Tacken had said a joke. "It is not a sickness Tacken. It will…fit your mood, let's say. You don't need to worry about it. Everyone in the community who hasn't already begun the pills will start with them tomorrow, and we will begin the custom dream sharing at our morning meal."

Tacken scrunched his face at the thought. He did not dream very often but his dreams felt private. He wanted to keep them to himself, but the rules in the community were very strict in regards to lying. Tacken never cared for rules, anyhow, and doubted anyone would know if he had lied about a dream or not. Like a stomach ache or a headache, they were hard to tell if you were sick or not, because they were easy enough to fake.

His mother played with her necklace and his father caught notice. He took her hand and squeezed it gently. "I'm sorry dear, but you will need to take it off by tomorrow. I know how much you enjoy it, but jewelry is forbidden."

His mother nodded and gave a half smile but did not seem to be happy. Tacken knew his father had given her the necklace when they were first dating, and that she never took it off. Tacken wished he could see the silver of the chain, and the small sapphire pendant at the end, but it all looked like a dull gray to him. He excused himself from the table and began to start his homework. It was more math than he thought possible and a few chapters for his English assignment. As he was working on the last bit of his homework, his father asked him to join his mother and himself in the living room. Tacken put down his pencil, glad for the break, but upon seeing his mother and fathers nervous expressions as they sat upon the sofa, he began to tense.

"What happened?" he asked. His father and mother were seated together but there was a noticeable distance between them. Tacken was more used to their affections than this cold way in which they sat, as if they did not want to be near each other.

His mother patted her lap and he went to sit there. Tacken was not a large boy for his age, and rather scrawny compared to other ten year olds in his class. His mother brushed the hair from his forehead and kissed his cheek.

"We have something we need to tell you," she said. She didn't look overly thrilled by the news she was about to tell and so his father stepped in.

"In school, you have learned about the family unit?"

Tacken nodded, not liking where this was going at all. His father continued, "We have petitioned to have our female child, so that we can be a complete unit." His father looked both pleased and nervous by this news. Tacken felt betrayed and wanted to get up from his mother's lap but she held him tightly.

"I don't want a sister, I like us how we are."

His father shook his head. "I like us how we are to, Tacken, but we are now within the community. We need to become excellent individuals who uphold the values of family and friendship. We will receive the female in a few months, and we wanted to give you a few months to get used to the idea."

Tacken could feel his mother's arms around him but he felt completely alone. How could they do this to him? How could he be a big brother? He didn't know a lot about the world, but he knew it was not normal to receive a baby, one his mother did not have. He looked down at his mother's stomach and she shook her head.

"She will not be like you, Tacken, in that regard. She will be a gift from somewhere else," his mother said and tried to make the situation better, but he felt the same. He would not even know his sisters name until the day he met her. He wiggled out from under his mother and she let him go with reluctance. He went to his room without saying another word. A sister? He liked being an only child, how could they do this to him. For the first time in a long time, he felt angry. He wanted to do something, run or scream, but he knew neither was allowed. Instead, he went to sleep, even though it were earlier than eight. He closed his eyes in frustration and soon sleep overtook him.

When he awoke the next morning to his mother's voice waking him up, he did not feel any better. He took a shower quickly and came out to have his breakfast with a small pill and a glass of water waiting for him by his meal. He looked at it with disdain. His mother shot him a look that told him to take it, and he did so reluctantly. As he swallowed the pill, he felt annoyed and irritated. He still wanted to run and scream. He finished his breakfast, told his mother goodbye, and as he walked outside and mounted his bike, a calming feeling took hold of him. He did not feel annoyed or irritated anymore, and instead he felt placid and indifferent. He briefly wondered what he had been mad and annoyed about, but it did not matter anymore. He waved to Cole who waved back, and they took off towards school.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Going on 12

Tacken had grown used to the community by the time the Ceremonies were taking place. He could hardly remember what life was like outside the community; He barely remembered what his city looked like, or his old friend's faces. He had grown so used to the way things were done now, that he could hardly remember a life that wasn't safe, sound and familiar. He waited on stage with his parents to receive his new sister. He stood beside his mother, who seemed to be happier over the past few months. His father received the infant, who was slightly younger than the rest, and was given her name, Meggie. Tacken didn't like the name very much, but it didn't matter.

As they sat and waited for the other ceremonies to occur, Tacken grew quickly fascinated by Meggie. He put his index to her, and she grasped it with her own. She gave a smile and it warmed his heart. Being a big brother might be okay after all, he though. She grew a little fussy as the day went on, but his mother held her close and she calmed. Tacken had been doing most of his hours at the Nurturing Center and he felt he was ready for whatever Meggie could do.

Nothing happened with his ceremony, since not much changed for Elevens, but he was engrossed with the idea of being a Twelve. The ceremony would take place the following day and he grew excited to see what was to become of him in the following year. When the first day concluded, he followed his parents on their bicycles home. His father had the baby seat in which he placed Meggie carefully, and securely. When they arrived home, they shared a meal, and put Meggie down to sleep. She slept well through the night, and in the following morning, they went back to the ceremonies.

The Ceremony of Twelve was a special occasion. The members of the community seemed joyed at the twelves as they walked up the stage, one by one, to receive their assignments. Tacken still could not find an assignment that he wanted to do, but he had faith the Elders would find him something suitable. Tacken had become accustomed to the faces of the Council of Elders. Some had taken their time and introduced themselves to him, so that when he was monitored for his hours, he would not be frightened. He hardly ever saw anyone, however, and he wondered how they became so elusive.

As he looked onward toward the council he spotted an unfamiliar face. The man was considerably older than his counterparts, and looked depressed as he glanced around the crowed. Tacken wondered who the man was, and asked his father who sat beside him.

"That is the Receiver of Memory, he is the wisest person within the community. It is a much respected assignment."

Tacken tried to understand what it meant. "What does he do?"

"He guides the council in hard decisions. He was kind enough to come to our community, but he also over sees others as well. He has a very hard, but highly regarded job."

Tacken felt that the man looked glum, and very sad. He did not know if the man enjoyed his respected job, and he doubted he did very much. As the ceremony came to a close and all of the Twelves received their assignments, Tacken grew excited for the months to come. He went home that night thinking that nothing but happiness could await him in the future.

Months passed and Tacken was growing anxious for the upcoming ceremony. He only had one month left before he would become a twelve and his sister would become a two. He enjoyed Meggie very much. She was a smart child, and was able to use the block exercises well for her motor skills. She was beginning to talk well, but still struggled with most words. His mother did her best to show Meggie the right way to speak, but Meggie had her own idea of how things should be done. As the months had progressed, his mother touched and held him less and less, and as time went on, Tacken did not even notice. He no longer hugged her, or anyone, or held anyone's hand. He felt that touching was something rude, and to be avoided at all cost, so as not to embarrass or discomfort someone.

Tacken watched with his fellow Elevens as his sister received her comfort object which was called giraffe. Tacken had a faint memory of the comfort object, as if he had seen something like it before, but he brushed it off, thinking he was foolish. She looked excited as she stroked the giraffes head, and Tacken looked forward to playing with her and it. The rest of the ceremonies were boring. Tacken was glad to be sitting next to Cole, who would sigh heavily as things happened. His brother was to become a seven now, having been made a six at the ceremony the year. His brother received a jacket which buttoned at the front, and he grinned happily from the stage. Cole and a few people within the community had same gendered family units. Tacken knew how unusual it was, but did not make note of it to his friend, in fear he would upset Cole of his differentness.

As the day came to a close, Tacken grew slightly ill for fear of the following morning. He discussed it with his family unit at dinner as they sat around the table and talked about the ceremonies. Meggie played with her giraffe as she ate her food and got small bits of food on the giraffe. His mother gave her a scolding look and Meggie slowed down her playing.

"But what if I'm assigned sanitation?" Tacken asked in fear. He had been worrying lately what would happen with his assignment. He had tried volunteering at every job he could, in hopes to grasp a feel for a particular job. He did not find one he overly enjoyed, however, and it worried him. His mother shook her head and smiled kindly at him. The worry lines that had once clouded her face were few now. She looked content nearly every day, and he was glad for that. He did not enjoy seeing his mother distressed, but since becoming fully ingrained into the community, there were no longer any real reasons to worry at all.

"You won't be, don't be silly Tacken. They will have found something for you, they always do."

"But what if they don't?"

His father gave him a stern look. "They will, stop fretting over something like this."

Tacken was not comforted by either of his parents that night. As he lay awake in bed, he pondered what would happen the following morning. He felt as though he had been waiting his entire life to become a twelve, and now that the ceremony was finally upon him, he felt scared with apprehension. He took a few long breaths and finally was able to relax his mind. As the dawn came up, he felt better than he had the night before, but still wary of what was to be in only a few short hours.

He joined his family for breakfast. He didn't feel very hungry, but he did not want to be chastised for not eating. It did not stop him from eating slowly, however. His father began a story of his dream, relaying that he dreamt that he could not finish his work at the clinic and he was released from the community. The dream frightened his father and his mother and himself comforted his father by patting him on the hands and shoulder.

"Thank you for your dream," Tacken said in unison with his mother. His mother related in telling that she did not dream. She did not often dream, so it had not been new to his father or himself. Tacken took a deep breath and began to tell his dream that he had been selected to become sanitation manager, and even though the dream was normal, he was unhappy as he awoke. His mother and father thanked him for the dream and everyone began to get ready for Tacken's big day. Tacken was eager to go, and so he arrived earlier than his parents. He was met by Cole as they each placed their bikes neatly on the bike rack outside the Community Center. Tacken gave a distasteful look at a new eight who sloppily put his bike next to Tacken's. The boy noticed Tacken looking and promptly apologized, and rightened his bike.

"I accept your apology," Tacken said automatically. Tacken and Cole took their seats in their proper section. Tacken was number thirty two out of fifty, and Cole was number thirty three. They each fidgeted in their seats, scared and anxious as the waited for the ceremony began. As the ceremony began, and Tacken heard the names and assignments, he was overly joyed that he did not get several of them. When number twenty eight received sanitation he was ecstatic. His worst fear had come to pass, and all he needed to do now was become excited for the council to reach him.

"Thirty one, Lenore," the Elder said. The woman speaking the names was older than most, but not as old as the Receiver of Memory, Tacken thought. Tacken did not pay much attention to the kind things the Elder woman said, because he was excited for his own turn. As Lenore sat back down Tacken was primed to jump up.

"Thirty three, Cole," she said. Tacken got up but immediately noticed something was wrong. Cole gave him a very puzzled, and slightly scared look. Had they skipped him? Tacken looked around for a confirmation but received none. Cole's name was repeated again. Tacken sat back down, perplexed, ashamed, and confused. He watched as Cole walked quickly to the stage, unsure feet leading him and his hands shaking with nerves. The audience was stunned silent. Had anyone's name ever been skipped before? Tacken's memory was fuzzy, he could not remember a time someone's name had been missed.

The ceremony continued and as the last name was called, a collective hush broke among the audience. The Elder woman looked over the crowed and smiled warmly.

"You all have noticed I made a mistake," she said and everyone gave a collect soft laugh. Tacken didn't know what to say or do, so he remained still as a statue and quiet as a sleeping person.

The woman continued to speak. "I have not made a mistake. Tacken has not been chosen, but he has been _selected_. Tacken, please come to the stage."

On shaky legs Tacken approached her. His hands felt sweaty but he did his best to ignore them. He stood beside her and wondered where this could be going.

"I apologize to you, Tacken, for putting you though embarrassment and confusion."

Unsure what to say, Tacken did the automatic apology. She smiled down at him, because he was still much shorter than most people, even those his own age and she put her arm very lightly on his shoulder.

"We have watched Tacken flourish within our community. He has taken great strides to become the boy he is today. I remember his first lessons on rudeness, and thanks to the excellent teachings of our own community members, we have taught Tacken to be a very polite individual. We have monitored Tacken's volunteer hours, as we have with every child in the community, and have selected him for a very special assignment, one that will take courage and patience. We have seen Tacken demonstrate a great deal of patience, as he has volunteered for the Nurturing Center, and a great deal of courage when he has chosen to freely speak in front of his peers for school."

Tacken did not feel either example given matched the words they were to describe, but he stood with the Elder, perplexed, and waited for her to continue.

"Tacken has been selected to become our next Receiver of Memory." The crowd around him hushed and many people looked to one another in curious murmurs. Tacken did not like this sound of this one bit. He looked over to the old man sitting apart from the rest, and the old man gave him a very faint smile, which Tacken could not return right away.

"You have a great responsibility to the community Tacken, and we feel you are able to handle this great service. Thank you for your childhood," she finished. Everyone stood and clapped in unison. Tacken was unsure if he should laugh or cry. He felt confused and overwhelmed. He was ushered off of the stage and given a very thin envelope, one visibly much smaller than those handed to his friends. Tacken rushed over to his parent's whose faces looked slightly grim. Meggie was quiet, much too quiet, as he approached, as if she sensed or knew, something bad were happening to him.

"You have received a great honor," his mother said but did not seem to mean the words. His father gave him a short pat on the back. "We are proud of your accomplishment Tacken." They all journeyed home together, though in silence. Tacken was curious what his envelope entailed, but he waited until he were at his desk, hidden away from his family in his room. The envelope held only a single piece of paper.

TACKEN

RECEIVER OF MEMORY

Go immediately at the end of school to the Annex located at the back of the House of the Old. Check in with the attendant.

Once Training Hours have been completed, continue back to your family unit.

You are now and furthermore exempt from the rules regarding rudeness. You may ask any question of anyone, anytime, and they will answer.

Do not discuss your training with anyone except the former Receiver of Memory.

You will not take any medication, for pain or otherwise, including your morning pill.

You may not dream-tell under any circumstance.

The rules seemed simple and straight forward. Tacken didn't want to be rude, so he did not feel as though he would follow that particular rule. He rather enjoyed the dream-telling and thought he might break this particular rule, but he would wait and decide. Tacken hoped he knew what he was about to get himself into, but he had a feeling that troubling days might be ahead of him.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The Past

Tacken stood in front of the Receiver of Memory's door. The woman at the desk had already buzzed him in but he was unsure if he wanted to move forward. The door had been locked, which shocked him, because there were no doors within the community like this. He took a deep breath and preceded inside. The Receiver of Memory was seated at the small dining table that looked similar to the one Tacken had in his own dwelling, but there were slight variances. The room itself was slightly larger, and held a bookcase full of books. Tacken gazed at them with curiosity.

"Hello Tacken," the man said. Tacken bowed his head to show his respect. "Hello, Receiver of Memory," he said. The man did not say anything in return, which made Tacken feel uncomfortable. He stood, waiting, as the silence around him grew heavy. After a few minutes, the man got up and stood next to a bed that had been placed off to the side of the dining table.

"Would you sit here please?"

Tacken did as he was asked. He went over to the bed and sat there, facing the Receiver of Memory whose face looked long and tired. The wrinkles were apparent, and his hands shook slightly when he moved them.

"I want you to call me Giver from now, and you Tacken, will become the Receiver of Memory."

Tacken nodded. He wasn't sure what was going on yet, but he knew it would be rude to interrupt.

"Do you remember anything from before you came into the community?" The Giver asked him. Tacken looked at him perplexed. _Before_ the community?

"I do not understand the question, Giver," he said and tried to be polite as possible.

The Giver gave him a grave expression and a very halfhearted smile. "I had a feeling the pills were more potent now, but this confirmed it. I want you to stop taking the pills immediately. I put that within the rules as a precaution, but I suppose I was right in doing so."

Tacken felt aghast. He had planned to still take the pill, or he had thought about it, but now the orders were direct and clear. Tacken felt an inkling for curiosity but pushed it back. When had he ever talked back to his superiors?

The Giver got up and poured two glasses of water, setting one at a table that was next to the bed so that Tacken could reach it. He did not feel thirsty, but thanked the Giver for being kind enough to give him a glass as well. The Giver took a long drink and set the nearly empty glass next to Tacken's full one.

"This will be hard for you to remember, but I hope in time that you do. There was a time before the community, all of the communities, and you had before been on the outside of it. Before the communities, the world was in ruin."

Tacken had learned in his schooling of the surrounding communities and how they differed from his own, but the phrase _the world_, was new to him. He politely looked to the Giver to continue. It was then that Tacken noticed how much lighter the Givers eyes were compared to the majority of the community. His mother had lighter eyes, and only one other girl in his class, but they did not speak about it because it would show differentness.

"The world has been suffering for a very long time Tacken, so long that there is no real beginning anymore. A long time ago, communities were formed to revive the world and bring back peace and prosperity. It has been going on for longer than I have been alive, and the Giver before me, and the Giver before him. We are in a line of people who have been keeping the pain of the world within us, so that we cannot forget what has been done, horribly, within the past."

Tacken felt he needed to interject. "What is the world?" he asked. He expected the word to sound foreign to his tongue, but it was not.

The Giver raised his eye brows in surprise and he quietly chucked to himself. "I will show you. Lay down with your face facing the pillow, please, and take off your tunic."

Tacken did so reluctantly. He felt very exposed, but the Giver showed him no mind. Tacken did as was asked of him and the Giver gently placed his hands upon his back.

"I'm going to give you a memory," he said but did not elaborate. Before Tacken knew what was happening, he was taken from the room. He could still physically feel the bed beneath him but something was very different indeed. He looked around himself and it felt as though he were in a dark, airless place. He looked at his feel, but they were covered by strange shoes that perplexed him. He looked at his hands next, and they were covered in similar material to the shoes. He knew his head was incased in a helmet but was unfamiliar to what kind. He look in a deep breath and looked up, because he felt this was why he was there.

His breath caught as he looked to the sphere in front of him, floating among the blackness as if suspended by a single thread. The object had swirls of white, but the majority was gray to him. There were land masses and a great amount of water, he could tell, and the word slipped across his mind as though he had known it the entire time, _Earth_. This was the world he lived on, he knew. There was a flash of something as he gazed at the world before him, though he didn't know what the flash meant. He stared hard, and the flash happened again, which covered most of the land masses.

Before he knew it, he was pulled back. The Giver gazed down at him expectantly but Tacken didn't know what to say. Words had escaped him and he felt dumbstruck by what had just happened to him. He opened his mouth to speak but found words were gone. The Giver laughed again, though this time was genuine and filled with amusement.

"That was the world, Earth. We live here, all of us."

"I saw something as I was gazed down at it, though I do not know what it was. It was a flash of something, briefly, as I looked down at the land masses."

The Giver nodded his head. "That is color. Before you came here, you were able to see all of the colors. You are beginning to regain your spectrum, and what you saw was called yellow. People like ourselves are able to fight against the color sameness serum."

Tacken felt unbelievably overwhelmed. How was this all happening to him and why? What made the counsel choose him for this job? His stomach felt sick and he took a long sip from the glass of water, feeling slightly better after doing so. The Giver could tell he was beginning to grow very uncomfortable, and so he took Tacken's hand. The hand of the Giver was very soft, and frail feeling, but at the same time, seemed strong. He grasped Tacken firmly, but not in a way that would hurt him.

"You were chosen to suffer the fate of this world Tacken, and I'm sorry. I will be here to help you until it is time for my own release. You are not alone, but at the same time, you are very much alone. I am sorry for this," the Giver said. Tacken wanted to cry but didn't. He felt very confused still and very angry that this was happening to him. What did the Giver mean by suffering?

The Giver took in a long breath and let go of Tacken's hand. "I realize how much this is overwhelming you, but I want to tell you what is going on. I have within me the memories of the world. They give me the wisdom to help guide this community. It is both a burden and a privilege, Tacken. I will transmute these memories to you so that you will take over this job, this burden, for the community so that we may all continue to be in peace."

Tacken wanted to run. His legs twitched beneath him as he gazed from the Giver to the door to the outside, where things were safe and things made sense.

"I promise, things will become slightly easier once you have stopped taking the pill. I will let you go for today, but you are still forbidden to speak about anything that happened here today. The people of the community cannot handle what we are doing," he said with a bitter smile.

Tacken hastily got his tunic back on and bowed. "Thank you, Giver," he said and rushed out the door without looking back. Tacken found his bike and quickly got on it, rushing to get away from the Giver. He knew the next day he would need to come back, but now, it felt good to be at a great distance from the man who frightened him with his knowledge and memories of the world.

"Tacken!" someone yelled behind him. Tacken glanced over his shoulder and noticed Nina paddling hard to catch up with him. He quickly slowed his pace so that they could ride together. Her hair was pulled back, and she smiled through heavy breathing from trying to catch up. Tacken apologized to her for making her strain herself and she accepted his apology with a broad smile. She had been assigned as a Nurturer, which Tacken was happy about, since she seemed to enjoy taking care of the children when they did their volunteer hours. She wore her assigned outfit still, which meant she had just finished her first day.

"How was your day?" Tacken asked, genuinely interested. He really liked Nina, and she had become a close friend to him as Cole. Tacken also wondered how Cole's job was going. He had been assigned to the clinic, where his father worked. Tacken had had a feeling Cole would get the assignment since he was very intelligent for their grade, and enjoyed helping people.

Nina let out a long contented sigh. "Very interesting. I learned a lot, but there is still more to find out. How was your day?"

They were nearing her house now. Tacken did not want to talk about his day, so he gave what he opened to be a convincing smile, and told her he had a nice day. He did not elaborate but she did not seem to mind. He waited outside her house as she put her bike away and waved him a goodbye as she walked into her dwelling. Tacken always made sure she got in okay, even though he had no real reason to think something would happen to her in the span of time that she put her bike away and opened the door. It still made him feel better to know she was okay.

Tacken peddled home at a slower pace than he had before, when he had peddled quickly away from the strange Giver. He arrived home and was surprised to see his mother there. She normally worked late into the evening but she smiled and greeted him as he entered. She held Meggie who was whimpering softly in his mother's arms.

"She was quite fussy today, and so I took off work. How was your first day Tacken?"

He wanted to shrug but knew his mother would chastise him if he did. He wasn't sure where the urge came from suddenly. Why did he feel off? He felt as though his actions and his mind were at a war, suddenly, as if he wanted to act out when he knew he should not.

"It was long," he said with a halfhearted smile and his mother laughed.

"Yes, work can make the day longer, it seems."

He left to finish homework. Tacken did not want to return to the Giver the next day but knew he had to. He did not feel well that night, and felt distracted the following day at school. Nina ate lunch beside him, which made him feel slightly better. When school ended, however, he felt an anxiety he had never experienced before as he opened the door to the Giver's usually locked dwelling.

The Giver sat next to the bed as he had the day before. He looked at Tacken happily, a small smile playing on his face. There were two glasses of water waiting, in case they needed them. The Giver ushered Tacken over, and Tacken nervously took his tunic off and laid down on the bed.

"You look as though you dreaded today," the Giver said. He did not say it meanly, or rudely, or happily. It was as though he were merely stating a fact, and Tacken nodded reluctantly.

"I'm not going to lie to you Tacken. This is not an easy way to live, but there are good memories, happy ones, that will make it a little more bearable. You are allowed to have a family unit, you can apply for children, and this will not be a lonely life for you. The only condition is that you cannot discuss this with them, and that will be hard."

Tacken wasn't seeing much in the way of positivity. He did feel comforted, however, at the idea of his own family unit one day. The Giver placed his hands softly on Tacken's back once more. They felt warm to him, and made him feel slightly less anxious and frightened than he had when he entered the room.

"I'm going to transmit to you a happy memory, one with the new color you discovered."

Tacken braced himself but the memory came quickly and smoothly. He was standing in a field and the color that he knew now was called yellow, was everywhere. The flower itself stood taller than him, with a thick stock. Tacken looked at the one closest to him and could see how big the flower could get. He touched a petal and felt it between his fingers, smooth and vibrant. It smelled refreshing. The name for the flower came across his mind effortlessly, _sunflower. _Maybe this would be okay, after all, he thought, as he gazed into the big flower and a slow grin came to his face.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Real World

Years passed and Tacken felt older than his current age. He was reaching his twentieth year, and was soon going to become the official Receiver of Memory. When he approached his eighteenth year, he received his own dwelling away from his parents and sister. He visited them often, because he enjoyed spending time with Meggie. She was going to become an eight soon, and for that, he was excited. He loved her deeply, but she did not love him back, he was sure, because love did not exist here. Love did not exist anymore but behind the Annex of the Old.

He had to come to grips with his own memory of a time long ago, when he was younger, and when he knew of love and color and fun. Sometimes when he would look at his mother, when she was not watching, he could see a deep sadness that she did not seem to have in her normal routines. He wondered if deep down she knew things were wrong, that she had known of love and friendship and color. No one within the community knew what those things were, not really, and it gave Tacken a sense of immense grief that he could never shake. He was careful to use the words and customs of the community when he was outside the Annex but sometimes he felt himself slip.

He came to his parent's dwelling one evening for a shared meal. They were happy to see him, as always, but now and then he felt they seemed wary of him, as if they could tell he knew great things that they could not comprehend. Meggie was holding her comfort object close to her and petting it softly. Tacken had seen real giraffes in his memories, and wished he could share with her the things he knew of the animals that no longer existed. He was sure, somewhere, that they did, but not anywhere close to them now.

"I'm going to miss my giraffe," she said that evening and sighed longingly at the comfort object.

"It's too bad there are no more giraffes," he said and winked at her. She gave him a perplexed look.

"They were real once?" she asking him innocently, curiosity shinning in her dark eyes.

His mother and father laughed. His father shook his head, "Tacken is just teasing Meggie, and there aren't things like that around. There never were, it's imaginary."

Tacken wished he could correct his father but knew it would do very little. He had become used to biting his tongue with members of the community. They did not want to know things that were different or strange to them. He often thought of them as docile sheep, an animal that was too stupid for its own good. He wished he could tell them so, especially when the council would come to the Giver for advice, because their questions were less than interesting. They often consulted the Giver with matters that seemed easy to Tacken, ones they could have figured out if they really tried to care.

He often felt that the lack of love and compassion was the real reason the community failed. The Giver once laughed bitterly when Tacken spoke his feelings out loud.

"If there were love, there would also be hate," the Giver told him.

"I don't think so. The opposite of love isn't hate, its indifference, and don't we already have enough of that?"

The Giver didn't give Tacken a reply and Tacken felt he had made a good point. He wished he would hug his sister, and feel his mother's soft warm hand on his face, but he knew those days were long behind him. People had decided well before he was born that affection and love were to be banned, and this was their winning reward. Tacken felt bogged down by the immense sadness inside him, one that he had to carry himself. With each dark memory the Giver gave him, he became older, while the Giver seemed to grow a little younger.

"How old are you Giver?" he asked one day, after a long session. His body ached and he gripped the bed underneath his fingers with a great need to release the discomfort. He was getting used to this feeling of hopelessness, fear, and ache. His body felt as though he had been trampled by many large elephants each day. It took every ounce of strength he had each day to come back and take this burden from the Giver and from the community he greatly resented for living in their happy, oblivious bubble.

"I am almost sixty, but you might say I look closer to ninety."

"You look better than before, since sharing the memories."

The Giver nodded at this. "Yes, there is less pain and my body feels as though a great weight has been lifted from it. These memories are not for the faint of heart, or the frail body. I am sorry you must also have this burden, Tacken."

The Giver was genuine, and Tacken knew it pained the Giver to give him the worst of what the world was. Tacken did not blame him, but instead blamed the community at large, and the people who decided that this was a great idea. He understood that the past was important, for without the knowledge of the past, they could not avoid such terrible things in the future. He only wished everyone could share this burden along with him, so they could all understand the same things together. He wished he could have his parents back, from when he was ten years old. He wished things were as they were, but knew the world had messed up too greatly to ever return.

He had been wholly oblivious to the world around him when he was a child. He knew now that war and famine were rampant and many people died, in wars and disease. He knew this was the last hope humanity had, and he accepted that, begrudgingly. How could humanity destroy itself? The Giver was the only person who understood his anguish, fear and grief over what had happened to the world and the Giver sympathized with him. The Giver was his only true friend, and he knew very soon, the Giver was going to leave him.

After dinner with his family he walked back to his own dwelling. He passed Nina's home and decided to double back and knock on her door. She answered after a few moments and smiled with surprise. Tacken thought she was beautiful, but could never tell her so, because it would be awkward between them, and by community rules, rudeness was still in effect. He did not want to make her uncomfortable by commenting on her appearance, but sometimes was able to get around it.

"Tacken, how nice to see you this evening," she said and motioned for him to come inside. She had been reading alone on her sofa that was like everyone else's in the community.

"It is nice to see you as well, Nina," he said and took a seat. She offered him a glass of water, which he accepted, because he felt rude to decline.

She poured him a glass and gave it to him, and he thanked her for it. She got one for herself as well and they sat quietly in each other's presence. He had always felt very comfortable with Nina. She had a calming presence that made him feel at ease and a little less agitated than he usually was around other community members. She was patient and kind, and he wished he could hold her hand or touch her soft hair. He loved her as he knew his mother once loved his mother, and he wished she could love him back.

"I enjoy spending time with you," he said, which was the best thing he could say. People often "enjoyed" things in the community, or "liked" them. There weren't any words close to love, but this was what he could say. She blushed, which made him smile. He and the Giver were the only ones who knew what color was. The Giver could no longer see the color that Tacken did, and he took note of the soft pink that came to her cheeks.

"I enjoy spending time with you as well," she said with a self-conscious smile that Tacken loved. He wanted to tell her how beautiful her smile was, but didn't.

"How was your day?" she asked him. He tried not to give a long sigh, because his body hurt badly all over. It took all his strength not to limp or show that he was in discomfort. He could not take pain relief medicine, and she would offer it if she knew he were in pain. She would not ask him what happened to cause the discomfort, but he would need to tell her a lie, and that was something he did not like doing to her.

"It was fine, very long. I am nearly done with all of my training. I will be taking over as the Receiver of Memory sometime within this week," he said, a great sadness leaking into his words. He knew the Giver looked forward to being done, but he did not want to lose his best friend. He did not want to lose the one connection he had to this world.

"That's wonderful!" she said and seemed genuine in her words. If only he could tell her how _not _wonderful it was.

"How was your day?"

She gave him a funny face and he tried not to laugh. She wasn't like some of the other community members who were stuck up in their ways of formality. She often showed that he had a sense of humor, which was another thing he greatly loved about her. She was not easily offended and teased people she was close with, though not to the point she felt she had to apologize.

"It was interesting. Some of the new infants are troublesome. There is a female who is a joy, though. She is one of the most relaxed infants I have ever seen, she is going to be a real joy to her new family unit in December."

"I wonder what her name will be," he said.

"I found out, because I was so curious," she said and tried to look embarrassed for breaking a rule but Tacken could tell she was not.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Rosemary, isn't that pretty?"

He nodded. It was one of the better names he had heard in a while. He felt his own name was one of the last unique ones, because the council often chose old names that had little excitement behind them. He knew from the memories that people once had very unusual names, with meanings that were unknown to him most times. He was glad, however, that people within the community were not named after fruit, as some people in the memories had been.

"It's a very nice name," he said. He checked his watch and raised his eyebrows in surprise, it was already so late. He got up and wished Nina a goodnight. She seemed sad to see him go but got up to see him out. She closed the door softly behind him as he left to his own dwelling which was a block or so away. When he got to his door, he found an envelope with his name on the front in unfamiliar writing. As he stepped inside and opened it, he was very surprised at what he saw.

_Dear Tacken,_

_ The Council have been closely monitoring your interaction with the female Nina, and we would like to inform you that we find this union passible for a family unit. You both have characterizes of a well-organized unit, which is suitable for children. If you would like to apply for a family unity with Nina, please speak with the council. We have sent a note to Nina as well, and if you both are agreeable, see us at you leaser. We hope to see you both soon._

_Sincerely,_

_Elder Sophia_

Tacken was very surprised by this letter and wondered when Nina had gotten her. Since she had not brought it up, he guessed she would have received the letter upon his departure. He was very glad for this letter, because he also felt he could have a family unity with Nina. They both balanced one another, and he deeply loved her. After his lesson the next day, he would go to her home and ask her to accept the council's decision with him.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Receiver of Memory

Time felt as if it were going slow for Tacken. He sat with the Giver on their last session and felt nothing but sadness. The Giver gave him a soft smile and took his hand in his. The Giver's hand felt old and frail, as it had so many years ago, but he clung to life because it was his duty to help Tacken achieve the role of the Receiver of Memory.

"When will you be released?" Tacken asked him.

The Giver brushed off his comment with a chuckle. "Not for a little while, Tacken. You can't get rid of me so easily. I'll be staying at the House of the Old with others in the community who have finished their duties and jobs."

"But you won't remember me, or any of this," Tacken said, his voice strained with the effort to keep tears back. He was going to lose the only real friend he had within the entire community, one whom had taught him so much and helped him gain back his own self. He wished he and the Giver could live together in the memories that they both shared, though for the Giver they were mere whips of thought since passing them all to Tacken. Tacken wanted to take them back to a time where love existed, but couldn't. There had been so many years now that love had been taken away. Tacken had been one of the last people to even remember, thanks to the Giver, that love had been possible. The only love now was between the Giver and himself.

"That is true, to an extent. I will be taking the memory pill to alter my perception. I will not forget you Tacken, but I will forget the memories and what comes with them. Please do not think ill of me. I have lived a very long time, and like the Giver before me, he also wanted a simple life for his last days. I had not understood it then, but I do now, and someday when you become a Giver, you will also feel the same."

Tacken tried to understand what forgetting could be like. He had once forgotten his precious city, and even now as the years have gone by and his memory has been filled with the memories of the world, he struggles to remember a long forgotten time of his own childhood. He did not want to ever forget the things he had learned, even if it meant he would suffer greatly.

The Giver let go of his hand and sat back in his chair and looked at Tacken with a deepness in thought. "For us Tacken, time seems endless. We have been given the opportunity to relive the best and worst of humanity, and we are both blessed and burdened with it. Please remember me, and visit when you can, even if I will not remember our sessions. My soul will remember Tacken, even if my mind can't. Now, please lay back, I am going to give you the last of the memories. I have saved this one special because it is my favorite, and I was too selfish to give it up."

Tacken waited for the memory to come and when it did, he could tell why it was the Giver's favorite. There was an event in the memory, though Tacken didn't try to find out what it was, because he knew it was not the focus of the memory itself. He was standing in a small house, with lights and candles everywhere and a nice fire in the hearth. He knew by now the names of everything, and he wished that the community had candles. He could smell them in the memory, and they smelled sweet and warm. There were older people sitting together with children around and they were exchanging colored packages. Tacken understood what this memory represented, and it was love itself, the love of family.

The tears that had been threatening him finally sprang lose, as if a dam within himself had broken and shattered. He came out of the dream and watched as the Giver cried with him, and they embraced each other, for this was the end for them. Tomorrow, the Giver would move to the House of the Old and Tacken would move into this dwelling. The books and the memories would be his to keep, alone. He would have Nina, he hoped, but this could only comfort him so much.

He left the Giver that day and went back to his own dwelling. He felt as though a rock had been placed in his stomach and softball had been logged in his throat. He didn't want to eat when his meal came, and he did not want to get up the following morning when things were going to change for him. He felt depressed and scared. He wanted to run away but knew it were impossible. Later than usual, he got up. He knew all he needed was to simply go to the Givers old dwelling and it would be prepared for him.

Tacken did not have any real possessions and so he went to his new dwelling and sat there, in the silence, alone. He had become the official Receiver of Memory, and he wished it were not true. He wondered if the Giver had taken the memory pill, and it gave him dark thoughts of times people in history had succumbed to memory alterations. The only solace Tacken could think of was that the Giver would always been in his thoughts and memory, and that he loved Tacken. He knew it, for sure, that he had been loved, and that helped him.

He finally dragged himself out of his dwelling later in the afternoon and went to Nina's, where he desperately hoped she would accept his proposal, or the councils since he had not been given the option to get her a ring, as people had done within the memories. When he knocked on her door she answered it almost immediately with a big smile on her face that made him smile in turn. She quickly invited him in, excited. He was already put at ease by her enthusiasm and it made his day a little less dark and gloomy.

"How was your day?" she asked him, as though it were a formality.

"I became the official Receiver of Memory today," he said, a little less joyful than he had a moment ago.

"Oh, that's wonderful!"

He smile but didn't say anything. Instead he took her hand, and she looked at him curiously. It was strange to touch one another, but he enjoyed the soft feel of her delicate hand in his. It was a hand that had never known pain or discomfort. It was a hand that he wanted to make his, in marriage.

"Nina, I came over today to ask you if you will accept the council's decision that we become a family unit." He did not feel embarrassed, self-conscious or flustered. He felt confident and sure of himself, because he had always loved Nina.

She nodded vigorously. "Yes, of course!"

He hugged her briefly and she seemed surprised by this but also leaned into the hug. He could feel her warmth and smell the scent of her skin. Members in the community had their senses altered, such as sight and also smells. They could smell, but at a lower scale than Tacken. He did not know why smells were also altered, but touch and feeling was as well. He could feel the heat of the sun above them, but knew the members of the community could not. People of the world were shadows of their own selves, and he had a feeling it had to do with the fact touch and smells weren't really needed anymore, because life was not affected by them.

"I will put in the paperwork tomorrow morning," he told her. He had more ability to move throughout the community than she did, since she had to be at the Nurturing Center at a certain time. He left her and slept better that night than he had before. The Giver was not far from his mind, but the thought of Nina lessened his depression. He woke up early and applied at the council, and was told that it was accepted.

The older council woman who had given him his assignment shook his hand. "Please remember Tacken, that anything related to your position is to be kept away from Nina. The rules will always stand," she said but smiled. He nodded and left, knowing that already. He quickly went to the Nurturing Center to tell Nina. When he arrived, he was told that she was currently seeing to a newborn and he was asked to wait in the seating area near the entrance. Tacken grew bored quickly and wandered around, knowing that nothing could be kept from him. He could feel his own curiosity peeking through, and a touch of his rebellion from youth, as he walked into the toddler room.

Tacken loved children, and wished sometimes, in his own thoughts that he had been chosen to be a Nurturer. He enjoyed doing his hours here. He noticed a female playing by herself happily and he promptly sat next to her. She was playing with blocks, ones with colors he could see and that she could not. The Nurturer on duty smiled politely at him, and did not refuse him to be there. He picked up one of the star shaped blocks and handed it to her and she waved it around happily. Her eyes, unlike everyone else's, were a lighter shade like his. He knew this was a sign that she was able to Receive, and hoped she never would.

After a few moments Nina joined him and he told her the news. "That is wonderful news," she said.

"Which one is Rosemary?" he asked her, quietly while the Nurturer was changing a diaper.

Nina gestured to the girl they were playing with. "This is her, isn't she a good child?" Nina said fondly. Tacken nodded, hoping for a bright future for such a happy child.


End file.
